Connotations Vol. 16.1-3 (2006/2007) The Return of the Dead in Margaret Atwood’s Surfacing and Alias Grace BURKHARD NIEDERHOFF 1. Introduction 1972 was Margaret Atwood’s annus mirabilis. In one and the same year, she published Surfacing, a powerful and disturbing novel that has become a classic of twentieth-century fiction, and Survival, an engaging study of the characteristic themes of Canadian literature that has established itself as a major critical text on works written north of the 49th parallel. The title of this study points to what, according to Atwood, her compatriots are most likely to write about: surviving the hardship of a barren land and an inhospitable climate, surviving a crisis or a disaster, or surviving, in a psychological or cultural sense, different kinds of victimisation or colonisation (41). Whether survival really constitutes the central theme of Canadian literature is a question that need not detain us here. What is more important in the present context is the fact that it plays a prominent part in Atwood’s own writings. She readily admits as much in the introduction to Survival, in which she states that “several […] of the patterns I’ve found myself dealing with here were first brought to my attention by my own work” (20). Thus one of Atwood’s central con- cerns is close to the restoration from death, the theme of the confer- ence at which a preliminary version of this paper was presented.1 Admittedly, to survive does not literally mean to be restored from death, but it means to be restored from a near-death experience or from a situation which can be metaphorically described as death-in- life. _______________ For debates inspired by this article, please check the Connotations website at <http://www.connotations.de/debate/the-return-of-the-dead-in-margaret- atwoods-fiction/>. Connotations - A Journal for Critical Debate by the Connotations Society is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The Return of the Dead in Atwood’s Surfacing and Alias Grace 61 Thirty years after Survival, Atwood published another book of popular literary criticism, Negotiating with the Dead, in which she moves even closer to the restoration-from-death topic. Commenting on the chapter title that is also the title of the book, she argues: The title of this chapter is “Negotiating with the Dead,” and its hypothesis is that not just some, but all writing of the narrative kind, and perhaps all writ- ing, is motivated, deep down, by a fear of and a fascination with mortality— by a desire to make the risky trip to the Underworld, and to bring something or someone back from the dead. (156) Again, this sweeping generalisation is based just as much on At- wood’s own work as on literature in general. A cursory perusal of her writings yields a long list of people returning from the underworld. An early poem from The Animals in that Country (1968), “The reve- nant,” describes “the skull’s noplace, where in me / refusing to be buried, cured, / the trite dead walk” (52); in the final poem of The Journals of Susanna Moodie (1970), the eponymous heroine returns to twentieth-century Toronto long after her death; in Surfacing (1972), the protagonist encounters the ghosts of her parents; Lady Oracle (1976) begins with the words, “I planned my death carefully” (7), and is about a woman who stages her own death to cut herself loose from her old life and begin a new one; Cat’s Eye (1988) features a protago- nist who portrays herself as a vampire (233) and interprets Halloween as an event “when the spirits of the dead will come back to the living, dressed as ballerinas and Coke bottles and spacemen and Mickey Mice, and the living will give them candy to keep them from turning vicious” (387); in “Death by Landscape,” a story from Wilderness Tips (1991), the narrator is troubled by the continuing presence of a child- hood friend who disappeared on a canoe trip; in Alias Grace (1996), the dead return to the living to haunt or even possess them; in The Penelo- piad (2004), Penelope talks to us from Hades. Atwood’s two most recent books, both published in 2006, also include negotiations with the dead. In “The Entities,” one of the short stories in Moral Disorder, a landlady relocates the ghost of a recently deceased tenant, who was 62 BURKHARD NIEDERHOFF also the first wife of her husband; and “Nightingale,” one of the mis- cellaneous short pieces in The Tent, contains a dialogue between the ghost of Procne and Philomela, who may or may not be a ghost her- self. This essay will deal with Surfacing and Alias Grace, two novels whose representation of the return of the dead is particularly chal- lenging. After a reading of the former I will present a discussion of the latter, in which I will focus on the surprising number of similarities between the two. However, there is also a crucial difference in the way the two novels represent a secret or repressed knowledge that is associated with the return of the dead. The roles that this knowledge plays in Surfacing and Alias Grace could not be more different, as I will argue in the final part of this paper. A last introductory point concerns the conference topic, “Restored from Death,” which needs to be emended for the purposes of this essay. When the dead appear to the living, they are obviously restored from death, but often their appearance is just as much about being restored to death as from it. A case in point is the very first revenant of Western Literature, the spirit of Patroclus, who appears in the 23rd canto of the Iliad. He returns to his friend Achilles to ask him for a proper burial: Sleeping so? Thou hast forgotten me, Achilles. Never was I uncared for in life but am in death. Accord me burial in all haste: let me pass the gates of Death. Shades that are images of used-up men motion me away, will not receive me among their hosts beyond the river. I wander about the wide gates and the hall of Death. Give me your hand. I sorrow. When thou shalt have allotted me my fire I will not fare here from the dark again. (398) In his encounter with Achilles, Patroclus is temporarily restored from death, but what he is negotiating for is a restoration to death. Caught in the no-man’s-land between the dead and the living, he is waiting to The Return of the Dead in Atwood’s Surfacing and Alias Grace 63 be buried in the proper fashion, which will allow him to pass the gates of the underworld and to find his place in the “hall of Death,” never to “fare […] from the dark again.” Admittedly, Atwood’s novels are a far cry from Homer’s epics. In the Iliad, the ghost is real, not a figment of Achilles’s imagination. Furthermore, conducting him to his eternal rest does not pose any knotty psychological problems; it is a matter of performing the tradi- tional burial rites. In Atwood’s fiction, the spirits of the departed are much more intricately entangled with the souls of the living to whom they return. Moreover, there are no rites and formulas for dealing with them—to negotiate with the dead means to embark on a perilous journey of (self-)discovery. However, in these negotiations there is, just as in the Iliad, a connection between a restoration from death and a restoration to death. When the negotiations between the living and the dead are successful, both of them can exist more peacefully in their respective worlds. 2. A Reading of Surfacing The narrator-protagonist of Surfacing is a Canadian woman whose name is never revealed, an absence that hints at serious problems of identity and of communication.2 She illustrates books for a living and shares a flat with her lover Joe, a sculptor and pottery teacher. She is also, or so we are told in the first chapters, recently divorced and the mother of a child, who lives with her former husband. The setting is the wilderness of northern Quebec, where the narrator’s family spent their summers when she was a child, leading a rather isolated life on an island in a lake. The plot consists of the narrator’s search for her father, who has been living in the family’s cabin on the island. When he is reported missing and believed to have drowned, the narrator travels north with Joe and two friends to spend some time in the family’s cabin and to look for her father. Unlike everybody else, she is convinced that he is still alive. 64 BURKHARD NIEDERHOFF On her arrival at the island, the narrator recalls the death of her brother: The dock slants […]; it’s been repaired so much all the materials are differ- ent, but it’s the same dock my brother fell off the time he drowned. […] My mother […] ran to the dock, he wasn’t there, she went out to the end of it and looked down. My brother was under the water, face upturned, eyes open and unconscious, sinking gently; air was coming out of his mouth. It was before I was born but I can remember it as clearly as if I saw it, and perhaps I did see it: I believe that an unborn baby has its eyes open and can look out through the walls of the mother’s stomach, like a frog in a jar.